Match
by Trace of Late
Summary: She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature alive, as far as Balthier was concerned. Balthier X ? See if you can figure it out.


**Title**: Match  
**Author**: Trace  
**Rating**: G  
**Summary**: She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature alive, as far as Balthier was concerned.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Final Fantasy XII or anything encompassed in it's universe; all credit goes to Square-Enix!  
**A/N**: So. I haven't forgotten about Distance. In fact, about half of the next chapter is written! Unfortunately, of all the FFXII story ideas that clamor in my mind, this one begged to be written last night. At 3 a.m. Enjoy!

**Match**

Balthier cocked an eye at his opponent, trying to silently puzzle out her thoughts. What would her next move be? The match was won in his mind, but only if she played into his hand just so...

The queen moved without hesitation, gliding across the slate effortlessly. He smirked; he had been expecting this. He prepared himself for the assault, carefully masking the triumph from his face. Even a fleeting grin would not escape her careful attention and then she would know to be wary. No, he had to keep his visage carefully controlled so as to avoid her suspicions.

The knight was taken in an instant. The queen stood poised, the rules of the game the only thing keeping her from charging the dark king that sat only three spaces away.

"Check," his opponent offered smugly, her eyes dancing. "I'm surprised. You don't usually offer openings this early in the game."

Balthier shrugged, the image of casual indifference. "An oversight on my part. I assure you it won't happen again, my dear."

She eyed him critically. "I hardly believe that it was an oversight."

"You could certainly do worse to believe less."

A sigh, and an all-too familiar exasperated head shake; Balthier couldn't help but grin. "I suppose asking you to speak directly for once would be too much?" she piqued.

A rook easily came to the defense of his king, guarding it from the imposing figure of the white queen, looming so closely. "Yes, I do believe it would be."

Her eyes narrowed as she examined the playing field. She drummed her fingers absently as she evaluated the situation. "You're infuriating, master pirate." A bishop sailed across the board to fell his rook.

Another cheshire smirk. "The women in my life have a habit of telling me that all the time."

Eyebrows arched. She glanced up briefly from the board, peering through dark, ash-tinted locks long enough to toss him a look of disdain. Her heart wasn't in it, however; the edges of her lips curled.

He moved a rook distractingly. He knew his tactic had succeeded when her brows furrowed in confusion. She idly played with the tail of her braid, casually laid over her shoulder, contemplating her next move.

"You're trying to distract me," she chastised after a moment.

"Perhaps," he drawled, twirling one of his many rings. "But perhaps not. The tide of battle will tell what my plans are, shan't they?"

She sighed. "I suppose so." A knight moved readily at her command on the other side of his king, seeking to flank him.

But Balthier was three steps ahead. He carefully moved a pawn into position. She failed to realize her danger, and she wouldn't realize the trap he had laid until she was caught in the middle of it. He would let their game continue for now, however. If she realized after the next few moves what lay in store, he would say nothing and allow her to believe she had picked apart his plan. She would smirk her triumph, and he would not hear the end of it for days.

He smiled inwardly. Years ago, it would ail him to knowingly allow an opponent victory over him. Time had settled him, though, and taught him that more important than winning every battle was to pick and choose your engagements wisely.

She did not disappoint. "I see your trickery," she proclaimed, whisking her queen to the other side of the board.

"Very good," he praised. "I didn't think you'd catch it right off."

She beamed with pride, and he was suddenly struck with how some things were constant despite the ebbing flow of time. The first time he had ever seen that particular smile had been years ago, but it was ageless to him. He didn't think he'd ever tire of it.

He didn't think he'd ever tire of her, to be honest. She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature alive, and he made sure that the prying gazes of various males appreciated her at a distance. Archades or Bhujerba, preferably, but the nobles had a habit of getting all out of sorts when he made more colorful suggestions on where they could put their eyes instead of on Her Highness. And this, of course, would put him on the receiving end of one of her lectures—'honestly, I can deal with a few smitten boys, you don't have to go telling them things like _that_'—which he would listen to attentively and then promptly disregard.

And the most horrible part was that it only got _worse_ as she aged. Pretty soon he'd be too old and debilitated to defend her honor, and then she'd be left to fend for herself and take care of his withering form. Not that she wasn't completely capable of doing so, of course. She had a horribly stubborn independent streak; he was convinced that if anyone was going to find a way of being in two places at once or something else equally impossible, it would be her.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he moved a knight and took her queen. She was already speaking in her defense before he could retort with anything snide.

"A necessary sacrifice," she intoned.

"To so easily forfeit a life," he replied melodramatically. "I worry for your people, if this is how you rule."

She shook her head but did not reply, apparently viewing this as too silly for comment. She moved a piece, but it was of little consequence; Balthier would have her in checkmate in the next move and she hadn't yet realized that his earlier scandal had only been a ploy within a ploy.

The door to the study opened then; the two turned to see Ashe entering, a page following her with a tray holding a pitcher and three cups. She swept over, carrying the air of someone who was used to breezing in an out, even when it was with her own family.

"I thought you might be in here," she said to Balthier while taking the tray from the page and thanking him. "I made sure to bring enough for three just in case." She glanced over to her daughter, pouring her a cup of juice. "Though I'm surprised to see you awake. You know you must leave for Bhujerba early tomorrow."

"Mother," the girl rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like I take as long to get ready as father does."

"Now that was unwarranted," Balthier grimaced. Ashe chuckled lightly.

The princess's eyes softened. "I wanted to see you before I left. I don't think we've seen each other in more than passing since the Rossarian embassy arrived."

Ashe sighed. "I know. But The Rossarian's are being especially assertive about some subjects that I will not be moved on, and it's taking longer than we expected to talk them through." She looked over at Balthier, smiling slightly. "And it certainly doesn't help that Al-Cid doesn't interfere on my behalf nearly as much since we got married."

Balthier's look soured. "Praise be to Galtea for _that_. If I had to hear any more, 'Please, let us move on for the sake of Lady Ashe's countenance' rubbish,"--his imitation of Al-Cid was overly accented an flamboyant, but not particularly inaccurate--"I would have fed him to a band of feral saurans."Ashe looked affronted.

"Balthier! Mind your manners in front of our daughter!" She sighed. "Pay him no heed, Mireya. Al-Cid is a perfect gentleman."

Balthier grinned, leaning over across the table. "She never stops lecturing me."

Ashe scowled. "Stop requiring it and I wouldn't be forced to do it."

Mireya shook her head, standing. "I shall let you bicker in peace. Father, I suppose we will continue this another time?"

"Hardly the need," Balthier said casually while moving a piece a few critical spaces. "I have you in checkmate."

Mireya winced. "I suppose I was overconfident."

Balthier shook his head and went over to his daughter, hugging her lightly and kissing the top of her head. "You did very well. Goodnight, my piratess." He ruffled her hair gently, which she immediately tried to smooth down.

Ashe hugged her as well. "Goodnight. Give your uncle Halim my love tomorrow."

Mireya smiled. "I will." She turned to go, curtseying before she was out the door. "Good night, Mother, Father." She shut the door carefully behind her.

Ashe looked at the door as she took a sip of her juice. "She's growing so quickly. I feel like just yesterday she was a baby and we both had no idea what we were doing with her."

Balthier returned to his chair and reclined, yawning as he stretched his arms behind his head. "Don't speak of it. Speaking it aloud means we have to acknowledge that she's almost an adult."

Ashe smiled. "Turning sixteen hardly makes one an adult, Balthier."

Balthier raised an eyebrow. "I was a Judge at sixteen. You were married at seventeen."

"That was a different time. She'll get to have her full childhood, unlike us. I'm making sure of it."

Balthier's look softened. "That's what is taking so long. The Rossarian's are pushing an arranged marriage?"

Ashe sighed. "They're trying to. I won't hear of it until she's sixteen at least, preferably not until seventeen. That way we can be extremely selective and put it off until she's eighteen… and then maybe she can decide for herself."

Balthier nodded, getting up from his chair and collecting the cups and pitcher, placing them back on the tray. He opened the door to the study and gestured for Ashe to leave ahead of him. He brought up the rear and summoned the page, who had been slumped against the wall dozing. The page took the tray from him. "That will be all tonight, Tanj."

"Yes, m'lord," the boy bobbed. He hurried down the corridor, eager to return the pitcher to the kitchens and get some well-earned rest.

Balthier and Ashe walked briskly in the opposite direction, toward their private chambers, keen on resting themselves.

"You look exhausted," Balthier sympathized.

"Just two more days and then the Rossarian convoy heads to Archades," Ashe smiled. "Though I am considering revoking my vow to have you only as my consort. If you had the same jurisdiction as I, then perhaps I would have a break from these innumerable conferences."

Balthier couldn't help but chuckle as he unlocked the door to their suite. "I don't want to be king. If you weren't so tired, you would remember that you don't want me to be king either." He undid the clasps that held her gown in the back with the ease of routine, allowing Ashe to shed her formal wear of the day as he divested himself of his own finery. "Besides, you know if we both reigned that they would just have both of us in meetings all the time, and then neither of us would get any rest." Ashe laughed quietly as they both changed into their sleeping attire and took care of their grooming rituals before crawling into their plush bed.

Ashe leaned into the space of his open arm, laying her head on his chest. He adjusted so that his arm wouldn't fall asleep. "As Prince-Consort I could take your place in a few of the talks tomorrow. Perhaps the first one, in the morning? You could sleep in, if only an hour or two."

Ashe's voice was mumbled when she responded; she was already falling asleep. "I would not be adverse to that."

Balthier smiled, pulling her closer. Her warmth radiated into him, and—not for the first time since he'd been married to Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca—he wondered how they had ever managed to make their two completely separate lives coexist.

He decided not to ponder it too heavily. The woman in his arms was delightfully comfortable, and that was the only thing he wanted to think about as he drifted off into peaceful slumber, content to follow his queen.

**AN: **I really wanted to show the maturation of Balthier and Ashe's relationship here, as well as how their lives have changed and how they've adapted to different roles, but also how--of course--some things _never_ change. If your curious about Mireya's name, it is French for "admirable", and that is definitely how I see any offspring of our favorite couple! Intelligent, beautiful, witty... a worthy opponent. Also, Reya is Spanish for queen... so perhaps she will be queen someday when her mother can't resist the urge to spend her days snuggling with Balthier. :)


End file.
